Last night, while reading my Google Alerts for Bullying, I came across a very interesting but disturbing story. The link on the alert led me to an article about a new bullying game on Snapchat. In this game, players are encourage to come up with the worst possible insults they can hurl at another person, be it about their appearance, personality, weight or anything else. My reaction to this was, “Who in their right mind would come up with something like this?” I mean isn’t there enough crap in the world without people wanting to hurt others through a game. The article was published in several British newspapers so the game might be just in the UK, although it will probably spread world wide if allowed to continue. Personally, if it does, I think that any victim of this Snapchat abuse should do the American thing and sue the game’s creator. Obviously, there are a lot of sickos in the world.

Rachaele Hambleton and her 12 year old daughter Betsy

Fortunately, this story has a happy side to it. One 12 year old girl from Devon, UK named Betsy Chamberlain stood up to all those who play this game. She wrote her own story on Snapchat saying how disgusting this game was and it was cruel and mean and that she would have no part in playing it. Betsy’s mother, Rachaele Hambleton states how proud she is of her daughter for taking this stand against this horrible bullying game. Well Rachaele, I’m proud of Betsy too for the same reasons. Rachaele has now written about this game in her own blog, Part Time Working Mummy, to warn people of the potential dangers of this game. She has also alerted many parents to it as well. Hopefully, this will go far in getting victims to speak out if they are being bullied online or anywhere else.

An additional thought, inspired by my beautiful Aspergers mind, came from the only online comment on the article. It simply states, “Now blogger is an employment option.” You sorely missed the point here mate. Yes the mother works part time and yes she writes a blog but she doesn’t do it for a living. I don’t know anyone who writes a blog for a living. In my case, there is a indirect financial motive for writing Peaceful Rampage and that is so you will all go out and buy my book, “He Was Weird.” But I work a full time job plus two part time ones and none of them are to do with blogging. The thing is that Rachelle Hambleton wrote her article in order alert others to the dangers of this game and to rightfully give praise to her daughter Betsy for being brave and standing up for what she believed was wrong. I praise Betsy too.

To view the newspaper article in The Sun, here’s the link: https://www.thesun.co.uk/living/3016323/mum-horrified-when-daughter-tells-her-about-new-snapchat-bullying-game-but-is-left-proud-by-her-response/

To buy He Was Weird, go to https://www.amazon.co.uk/He-Was-Weird-Michael-Lefevre/dp/1909740942/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1488915055&sr=1-1&keywords=he+was+weird

Instead of my intended post, I decided to post about an event I read online tonight. A teacher in North Carolina was suspended for showing an anti- bullying film to her class. The film in question is called “All You Need is Love.” It’s about a world where homosexuality is the norm and straight people are denounced for their lifestyle choices.

Ashley is a young girl born of two normal mothers. She discovers she has a liking for boys which is against the norms of this particular society. Her peers find out about her hetro-sexuality and begin bullying her for it. Like many victims of homophobic bullying, those in authority like teachers blame Ashley for her suffering on account that she is straight. Her parents aren’t much help either. When she is badly beaten up, all Ashley’s parents can talk about is moving out of the town. In the end, Ashley takes her own life.

Having watched the film, I can say that there is nothing shocking, inappropriate or unusual about it. The bullying Ashley suffers is typical of the bullying many people suffer, I know, I suffered it too. So my question is, why are so many parents up in arms about it. Furthermore, I think that suspending the teacher over it is overreacting in a big way. My first thought is that this type of thing is typical of America. Something that appears controversial takes place and the knives and torches come out before all of the facts are known. What’s also an interesting note is that most of the pupils who saw the film were not upset by it. Rather, they saw the anti bullying message in it.

Okay, the vehicle in which the anti bullying message may seem quite controversial. After all, we don’t live in a world where homosexuality is the norm, it’s still more the reverse. However, bullying knows no bounds and can happen anywhere for anything. I know that all too well too. Therefore, I think it was right of this teacher to show the film and alert children to the dangers of bullying as it can happen anywhere.

To view the film: http://www.wsoctv.com/news/local/teacher-suspended-after-showing-students-anti-bullying-video/491662577

Last week I had to get a new pair of glasses. The frames from my previous pair were too mangled to continue wearing so I had to choose new ones with the new prescription. After looking at several pairs, the female sales assistant pointed out a couple that I might be interested. I tried on a few pairs and one pair that seemed to work looked a lot like the black horn rimmed glasses I wore until I was 13. This brought back flashbacks to that time and lots of anxiety. While I don’t think I’m vain, I did ask the sales assistant to tell me what they looked like from a woman’s perspective and she said she liked them. Therefore, those were the ones I got.

These were a bad memory from my youth

To many people, my anxieties were over nothing. After all, why get all obsessed over a pair of glasses? The answer is that wearing glasses like those above, contributed to a lot of the bullying I received back then. I remember one time someone said hello to me while he was with someone else who didn’t know me. While they were walking away, I heard the person who didn’t know me ask the other, “Is he as uncoordinated as he looks?” There were also teasing comments like, “You’re really good looking” and when I did eventually switch to wire framed glasses, my friend confessed that I looked like a fool in the old ones above. After that, I vowed that I would never get those glasses again.

Getting the new glasses did a lot for my self esteem, especially after some people complimented me on how different and better I looked. I would have liked to say that the new glasses solved all my problems but unfortunately, they didn’t. The seeds that produced all the bullying I was going through had long been firmly rooted. In fact, one bully threatened to ram the new glasses down my throat. Fortunately, I moved out of that town a few weeks after and I would like to think that showing up to the new school on the first day wearing those wire frames kept me from being identified as an easy target. It also contributed to the fact that I only suffered one-one hundredth of the amount of crap there than I did in my previous town. So, I think that I can draw a conclusion that perhaps glasses do make a difference. If anything, they do wonders for self esteem.

This is probably why I highlight the glasses in “He Was Weird.” Mark also has glasses like the above at the start of the story and maybe that leads to him getting bullied on the second day of school. Like me, when he does get new glasses, it doesn’t end the bullying he’s suffering and unfortunately, he never gets to move to a new town. If he did, maybe the new impression would have helped him like it did me.

To buy He Was Weird, go to: https://www.amazon.co.uk/He-Was-Weird-Michael-Lefevre/dp/1909740942/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1474485228&sr=1-1&keywords=he+was+weird

Not too long ago and not in a galaxy far away, I responded on some other blog about the 1980s. On this blog, I commented about my memories of this decade. I wrote something along the lines of:

“I remember the 1980s, everyone having to work three jobs because they all paid minimum wage, people wanting to censor music and all the intolerance I suffered for the heinous crime of having long hair.”

I wish I could have gotten my hair like this but it was long enough.

The blog in question was for the conservative type Americans and the particular post was against someone who wrote a book criticising the Reagan administration, so naturally, I got a few responses. The most memorable one was from a woman who wrote:

“Criticising hair styles is really intolerance. Poor victim, maybe you can get some money from the government for it.”

A man commented that if my only problem was people dissing me over my hair, then the 80s couldn’t have been that bad. Both of these missed the point. Let me begin by giving the definition of intolerance. It is: unwillingness to accept views, beliefs, or behaviour that differ from one’s own. In short, a great mass of people, especially those who attended my community college, were unwilling to accept me on account of the length of my hair. Therefore, they were intolerant! Plus, there was further intolerance because those same persons did not seem to accept my reasons for growing my hair long in the first place. For those who don’t already know, the reason why I grew my hair long was because I had spent four years in the US Marines. That meant I spent four years forced to wear very short hair while in the service of my country. People were either deaf by choice or simply just didn’t want to hear my reasons. That to me is the ultimate intolerance. When someone is willing to give reasons behind a certain behaviour and people don’t care to hear that someone.

That wasn’t the first intolerance I suffered and yes, I do go over this a bit in “He Was Weird.” In sixth grade, I wore a baseball jacket. (See picture below). I admit, I didn’t get a whole lot of grief over it but I was told by one classmate that the reason why nobody liked me was down to the fact that I wore babyish things. Again, we have more intolerance. After all, an eleven year old boy wearing a baseball jacket is a very good reason not to like him, NOT! Not accepting someone because of their clothes also follows the definition of intolerance.

My baseball jacket looked a little like this

Intolerance is bullying, plain and simple. Throughout the ages, people unwilling to accept others for their beliefs, actions and even clothing or hairstyles has resulted in many of the human catastrophes which have taken place throughout mankind’s history. It has taken intolerance towards me for something some might call trivial, to me it wasn’t, to make me more tolerant of others, especially in the field of hair and clothing.

To buy He Was Weird, go to: https://www.amazon.co.uk/He-Was-Weird-Michael-Lefevre/dp/1909740942/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1473101724&sr=1-1&keywords=he+was+weird

Around three months ago, I wrote a post called “Billy No Mates,” where I explained how the lack of friends during the period that inspired me to write “He Was Weird,” has given me much anxieties over the years that passed. I was and sometimes am still worried that nobody is going to like me and no one is going to be my friend. Recently, I realise that there is another aspect to these anxieties that I didn’t think about then. So, I’ll post about that now.

Last week, I had a small vacation with my wife and two of my step-granddaughters in the Northern British city of Newcastle Upon Tyne. My wife goes every year (she loves the city) but this was the first time, I accompanied her in four years but that’s not important. Our routine is that at night, she settles down by reading and spending quality time with the grand-kids while I go out and have a few pints. I usually toddle home sometime between 11 or 12 and never intoxicated.

Well that was before our first night there. Now, before I go on, what you are about to read is not an attempt by me to make any excuses. I went to the only rock bar left in Newcastle and was enjoying my beer while listening to good tunes. A small group of people were nearby and the lady in the group points out my t-shirt and says it’s cool. (My shirt displayed pictures of George Bush and George W Bush about a caption that read ‘Dumb and Dumber.’) Anyway, I join these people and we get along famously. The pub closes and it is suggested we go to a place that’s open longer, so I follow them. When that place closes, we hit another place and then another. It turned out that the one guy was determined to drink Newcastle dry this night. When we hit another bar, it is now three AM and I am thinking that I should return to my hotel but this guy states that he just paid for me to get in the place so I went in. In the end, I didn’t get back to my hotel room until after five in the morning. My wife wasn’t best pleased especially as I wrongly assumed that she would be so tired from our trip and the day that she would be asleep. She was worried that something happened to me and yes, I did have to do a lot of apologising that morning.

Why did I do it? Everyone says that that was completely out of character for me. Here’s my explanation which is not an attempted justification. On reflection, because of my worry about having no friends, I have been known to respond to anyone who shows the slightest hint of friendship towards me. Like so many times in my life, these people on the night offered their friendship and in my mind, I was so grateful of this that I had to take them up on it. Furthermore, wanting to be a good friend, I was willing to stay out to the wee hours of the morning, although I didn’t consume nearly as much alcohol as the gentleman who wanted to drink the town dry. When that guy paid my way into the one club, I thought it unfriendly to then go and leave, so I stayed even though I knew deep down it wasn’t the right thing to do.

Another related topic was that throughout my early life, bullies and others would exploit my desire for friends. They would have me do things for their amusement or that would get me in trouble. While, I didn’t engage in any such activity this night except for staying out late, nor do I think that those persons would do such things, it did happen in the past. I do touch on this in “He Was Weird.” When Mark is in sixth grade, many of his classmates use his desire for friends to make him a laughingstock and then a target.

I think that friendship is a mine field with many people who contend with Asperger’s Syndrome. Like me, they want friends but don’t always have the correct social reading skills to make friends correctly. The results of this can often times be disasterous. While I wouldn’t say that about this experience because that was quite positive, I can see the potential danger it can cause.

To buy He Was Weird, go to: https://www.amazon.co.uk/He-Was-Weird-Michael-Lefevre/dp/1909740942/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1472674930&sr=1-1&keywords=he+was+weird

Throughout my childhood, I used to get asked the first question all the time. Often, the inquisitor’s motive for asking was so (s)he could tease and patronize or even bully. Sometimes, I tried to give some waffled explanation but often times I would say “I don’t know” because in all honesty, I didn’t. On the rare occasion, I would make a stand and say something like, “Because I take after you.” This met with mixed results, not all of them favourable.

Four decades or so on, after much self searching and outside research, I believe I can answer that question. I am utterly convinced that I have DAMP, (Deficiencies in Attention, Motor Skills and Perception) which is also linked to Asperger’s Syndrome. My personal symptoms are the appearance that I talk to myself and go further by sometimes acting out what I’m thinking. These are the two major ones that have plagued me for so many years and gave many people the belief that I was weird or mentally retarded. I got called that a lot as a child. A less severe but relevant symptom is the fact that I don’t always see things the way a so called ‘normal’ person would. This has also contributed to my branding and was worse with the more intolerant people of the world as well as some teachers. Then there was the one that people didn’t see. What they saw is me appearing not to ‘get it’ and draw the conclusion I was some sort of thicko. What they didn’t realize was that I was processing all the available factors in the problem, including ones that might not be relevant and trying to make sense of it all. Often, that would result in overload and sometimes melt down but to many, that was sufficient evidence that I was weird or other things. In reality, it was just my DAMP and Aspergers Syndrome that was the force behind it all.

Now that I have answered the first question, it is time for me to ask the second one. Do you accept my explanation? I honestly believe that if I were to return to the town and meet the people who influenced my writing of “He Was Weird,” they wouldn’t be so accepting of my explanation. They would accuse me of making up my condition because after all, I was such a liar back then, why should anything change? Sorry, I can’t show the sarcasm intended in that last part of the last sentence. Many of them would simply say that I’m just trying to make up that condition in order to elicit sympathy. No, I don’t want people feeling sorry for me. Whatever the reason, most of those involved wouldn’t accept my explanations for being “so weird” back then, especially if it contradicts their thin justifications for the bullying they put on me then. So, I’m not going to worry about what those narrow minded persons think. However, as for you reading this, I hope you will take the evidence on board and make up your own mind and hopefully will accept my explanation.

To buy He Was Weird, go to: https://www.amazon.co.uk/He-Was-Weird-Michael-Lefevre/dp/1909740942/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1469560500&sr=1-1&keywords=he+was+weird

This has been the million dollar question I’ve been asking myself ever since I first put pen to paper over five years ago when I began to write “He Was Weird.” I’ve had people from both camps put in their two cents worth as well. When I posted the forward to the book, stating how being bullied so badly inspired me to write the story, there were many words of encouragement given by a good number of people on how brave I was. That it was good that I was standing up and talking about the hell I went through all those years ago. To those people, I said a hearty “thank you for your support.”

Obviously, I have responses from people who weren’t so supportive. I remember on one comment web site some woman stated, “Poor victim.” I could feel the sarcastic tone in her writing, especially as she went onto say that maybe I could get some government grant or sponsored support on account of it. Then there were the more obvious ones like I’m an adult now so I should just get over it and the one saying I should have just gone and punched all the bullies in the mouth. Yeah, right. To these people, I say you are no help, keep your opinions to yourself as you don’t know what I experienced.

With all my Aspergers induced anxieties, many of which were brought on by the experiences I write about, I find myself asking that question still. With last week’s post, “Billy No Mates,” I have had a lot of feedback, all positive, but I still can’t help feeling that I must have sounded rather pathetic when I wrote it. On the other hand, I get a good feeling when I have written about an issue and gotten it off my chest. Furthermore, I feel quite bold to have written it. This constant battle between the feelings of pathetic and brave continues in my brain. So, I have come to the conclusion that the best way to deal with is to feed the dog representing the brave camp. Much of what I post about have been feelings that have been antagonising me for several decades and therefore, I need to be brave and silence them. Writing about it does the trick. Yes, the pathetic dog will bark at times but if I am comfortable with the fact that while everyone is entitled to their opinion, I know that what I am doing is the right thing for me.

To buy He Was Weird, go to: https://www.amazon.co.uk/He-Was-Weird-Michael-Lefevre/dp/1909740942/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1465938557&sr=1-1&keywords=he+was+weird

Last Saturday night, I celebrated my birthday out in town. I invited loads of people from work, both of my jobs and members of my softball team and of course all of my family who were of age. My two stepdaughters came as well as my youngest stepson and stepdaughter in law. Since I was running late, my wife took me and the family for a nice meal that went longer than I expected. Therefore, before I took my wife home because she wasn’t feeling well, I dispatched my stepdaughters and stepdaughter in law to the pub where we planned to meet. When I finally arrived at the pub with my stepson, the only ones there were those three. I did text one work colleague who promised to be there but he text back saying he had left. My stepdaughter who knew him said she never saw him. I would find out the following day he went to the wrong pub but at the time, the Billy No Mates effect was beginning to fill inside me. Fortunately, all of the ladies from my other job, who were on a night out, showed up at the pub and those anxieties left, so I had a rather good night.

My feelings that nobody likes me stems way back in my childhood, even before the time period that “He Was Weird” was set. Because of my Aspergers traits, I was often perceived as weird on mentally retarded by many children. Furthermore, this was added on by my lack of fine motor skills making me not very good at sports, although I didn’t give up trying. My overactive imagination which most people tried to discourage instead of encourage didn’t help matters either. Throughout many chunks of my childhood, I had few friends, especially during those years “He Was Weird” was set and that started a feeling that nobody liked me which has haunted me all through my adult life. This pattern repeated itself during my early to mid twenties when I left the marines simply because I was “that freak with the long hair and boots.”

One suggestion that was made another of times was that I should approach them with the offer of friendship. In theory, that sounds great but with my past experiences, I found it hard to do so because I feared rejection. Going up to people was just not in the cards. Of course there were times when the reverse was true. During times of severe bullying or exclusion, combined with the fact that some so called friends only became my friend in order to exploit me, I would have my guard up. In a few cases, someone may have approached me with a friendship offer but because my guard was up, they saw my apprehension as a rejection of their offer. This misunderstanding sent my anxieties skyward because I would then believe it was all my fault and that played havoc with my self esteem as well.

As usual, I have written a lot more than I originally planned but once I get onto something, I find it hard to stop. So, in conclusion, I can say that those fears will be with me, probably forever but I have found ways to counter act them. For instance, many of the no shows had prior plans. I’m cool with that. I also try not take things like that personally although it’s not always easy. However, it’s the only way I can keep my sanity and realize that I’m not the hated person I used to believe myself to be.

To buy He Was Weird go to: https://www.amazon.co.uk/He-Was-Weird-Michael-Lefevre/dp/1909740942/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1465333764&sr=1-1&keywords=he+was+weird

I am sure I am not the only blogger in the world who sometimes just doesn’t feel like posting. Recently, a fellow blogger, who hasn’t posted in quite awhile recently began posting again and explained why she hadn’t post in so long. Her reasons were very sound. This has me thinking about myself. Over the last few weeks, I have been bogged down with work to the point that when I got home in the evening, I just didn’t feel like writing. However, last week, I managed to pull myself together and get something down here. While, I did feel a sense of accomplishment, I felt a bit drained as well.

When I started writing Peaceful Rampage, I made the promise to myself that I would post once a week. This way, I thought, I wouldn’t become to bogged down in writing but I would still post enough to keep people interested. I worried that if I posted any less, all my followers would vote with their feet. This has my anxieties running a bit high. Because I committed to posting once a week, I believed that somehow I would be breaking a promise to myself and readers. Furthermore, my Asperger’s mind worries that if I miss one post, I will start down a slippery slope of posting less and less until I am not posting at all.

Now, I realize that my thoughts may seem daft to some people but this is how my mind works. It is very real to me. I try to tell myself that I am simply keeping up the discipline of weekly posting but now I realize that I won’t be letting myself or anyone else down if I miss a week. After all, what is more important, missing one week in three years or getting my mind more distressed because I am panicking about making a post. As I have read from so many of you who I follow, my mental health is more important.

Of course, my other anxiety here is the fact that the main reason I started the blog was to push my book, “He Was Weird.” Here, my worry is that by not posting, I am losing a week of advertising and that no one is ever going to buy the book. Again, I know that missing out a week isn’t going to affect sales that much but my mind still gets in a worry over it. Worse, there is nothing in the story I can think of that relates to what I am writing at this moment. So, I’m afraid there’s not going to be any shameless plug. Or is there?

Wow! Now that I posted something, once again I feel a sense of accomplishment. I hope what I have written now rings home with some of you. Whether we suffer from any sort of autism or mental stress or not, we all feel this way sometimes. For me, the best way of overcoming it is to write about it, so that’s what I’ve done.

To buy He Was Weird, go to: https://www.amazon.co.uk/He-Was-Weird-Michael-Lefevre/dp/1909740942/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1464723931&sr=1-1&keywords=he+was+weird

Probably the biggest reason why bullying went unchecked for several centuries was the fact that when bullying occurred, most people were inclined to blame the victim for it. Out would come the age old quips: “You should stand up for yourself more,” “You shouldn’t be so annoying,” “It’s because you’re so weird,” etc. I could probably gone on for hours here but that would wear out my typing fingers and I want to get to the point. That is that bullies were largely given free reign to carry out their atrocities because everyone would say that it was the victim’s fault.

Film: Big Bully

My thoughts on victim blaming remind me of the film, “Big Bully,” with Tom Arnold and Rick Moranis. In the film, the boy, who would eventually become Tom Arnold’s character horrendously bullies the boy who would become Rick Moranis’s. While they go separate ways as kids, they meet as adults and when Tom Arnold discovers the identity of his former victim, renews his bullying. Eventually, they reconcile but the reason Tom Arnold gives for his constant bullying was that his victim never did anything to stop it. So, it’s the victim’s fault once again.

Throughout my early life as a bullying victim, I was often blamed for being a victim. Whether it was teachers, other kids or sometimes my own family, I was blamed because I didn’t stand up for myself. What some people don’t realize was that sometimes I did but that only made it worse. FFI read my post, “You’re an Asshole for Standing Up For Yourself.” When I stood up for myself, I was made out to be the troublemaker and sometimes even the bully because the bully usually had enough of a following to twist things around to make it look like I had started it all. This resulted in me believing that no matter what I did, it was going to be wrong and made me even more reluctant to stand up for myself.

The last paragraph reminded me of a guy who I was in the marines with. He was constantly the target of teasing and bullying and he would often stand up for himself. The result would often be him getting his ass kicked. Now, in some cases, while he was noble in standing up for himself, the way he did so may not have been the best choice, especially his favourite comeback being, “F*ck you, mother f*cker.” There were worse things than that though. One time, when he was on the receiving end, one of his tormentors informed him that the CO said that he was the biggest troublemaker in the company. In other words, he was considered the troublemaker when he was actually the victim.

I tried to convey this point when I wrote “He Was Weird.” Many people blame Mark for the bullying he receives because he doesn’t always stand up for himself or when he does, is made out to be the troublemaker. Also, many people think he deserves the bullying he suffers because of the fact that he is perceived to be so weird. It goes even further after Mark finally carries out his revenge. The survivors of his onslaught all agree that he received so much bullying because of all his weird behaviour. In the book, we see this in its full glory when Mark is indecently assaulted by Smiley.

Blaming the victim for being bullied is wrong. Yes, maybe the victim may have been annoying but in most of those cases, it is the case of the bully having a low tolerance point and using any excuse to lash out on the victim. Furthermore, if the bully can’t stand up for him/herself, that doesn’t give bullies carte blanche to continue their aggression on the victim. Bullying because one can is the shittiest excuse there is. Now that bullying is finally being take seriously and steps are being taken against it, the notion of it somehow it being the victim’s fault needs to be eradicated. Once this wall is blown apart, it will clear a major road in getting rid of bullying all together.

To buy He Was Weird, go to: https://www.amazon.co.uk/He-Was-Weird-Michael-Lefevre/dp/1909740942/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1462988442&sr=1-1&keywords=he+was+weird